Friday, June 5, 2009

looking my age

One of these days I will have reflections on my first year. Maybe when I'm actually done with everything.

For now, a few reasons why I'm feeling overly young this week:

Forgetting to wear my faculty name tag has gotten me a lot of comments like "Congratulations on graduating!" and "You did it!" During finals week a student I had never met told me "good luck on your exams!"

A student came by to discuss grad school preparations and asked me, "you went to grad school, right?" First of all, little students, how else do you think people get this job? Also, don't give me that face of horror when you find out how long I spent going to grad school. Yes, I am old enough for that to have happened.

A few weeks ago when I was sick the local pharmacy refused to sell me some drugs without an ID because I had to be EIGHTEEN. It wasn't even sudafed. I was too sick to know how to respond to that, so I left. My students thought this was pretty damned funny, and informed me that I should be happy that people think I'm so young. I tell them how old I am, and they don't believe me.

I don't think I look that young, people! But apparently I'm wrong. Before I even started this job, someone at a workshop told me that I should make sure I dress up, because otherwise I would be mistaken for a student. I thought she was crazy. I guess she was right.

4 comments:

EcoGeoFemme said...

Oh boy, do I get that too! I hate it. My whole life, people have said that eventually I would be happy to look so young, but not so far.

Liberal Arts Lady said...

I'm waiting for that transition - I'd love to find out if/when it supposedly occurs!

nha said...

heeheehee. For Christmas I went to visit my brother in LA, and I was bringing him one of his skateboards and I took it as my carry-on on the plane. The gate agent scanned my boarding pass and said "Oh, you're seated in the exit row. How old are you?" ...I looked at her in a daze (my husband was standing next to me) and said "Twenty-seven?" and she was all flustered and waved me through.

Seated on the plane, I looked at the emergency instructions and saw that you had to be "at least fifteen" to sit in the exit row. my husband insists it was because of the skateboard.

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